There's no place like home.

“My Heart is a Compass” speaks to the trials and struggles one faces on a new journey. It calls on the heart to guide you to your destination, whether it be a physical place or a state of mind."

Casa Da Mae

This time 12 months ago, Betty and I were waking up in our new home together, Casa Da Mae, a 4 bedroom Pink 1970’s house, with an acre of land, a small vineyard, orange, lemon, fig, plum, apple, pear and persimmon fruit trees.

With a huge Old Cork Oak rooted at the Hearth of the land. Central Portugal. The mountains of Lousa in the distance, a garden of wild heather and gorse that merges into a forest of Eucalyptus. A small pond full of croaking frogs and an owl that became our lullaby to sleep each night.

I could hardly believe it was real then. And writing these words, a year on - I can hardly believe it’s real now. Betty and I hardly knew each other. We took a leap of Faith, into something which aligned heart, mind, body, soul. A path opened up for us and we simply followed it.

Our first summer was a dream, two women with drive, passion, purpose and creativity turning an empty, damp and dated house into a home. We worked wonders those first few weeks. Whitewashing walls, reclaiming old furniture and taking immense joy at heading to markets every weekend to bag second-hand bits & bobs.

Red Geraniums from the garden

"The Roses revealed themself that Summer, as did the bright red Geraniums, daisies and wildflowers, which I picked every day & filled the rooms with."

We got to know each other’s strengths and quiet determination through action. Betty is an absolute doer, I realise now, I am a bit more of a dreamer.

As I synced more with the seasons & cycles, I noticed in me a subtle slowing down. My morning practice became something not to rush before work, but to anchor into. I could feel the land, the culture and the energy of Portugal, the casual pop-ins from neighbours, the endless supply of marrows, eggs, cakes and conversation from neighbours begin to work on me at a deeper level. I realised I was here to undo & unravel 42 years of conditioning. A Lifetime in a capitalist, productivity led society and energy.

As Autumn arrived that I was beginnng to practice the art of being. The things we'd rushed to complete seemed less important. I noticed that we slept more, wrote more, lingered in the kitchen sharing what we’d dreamt about the night before.

"A sense timelessness in a time orientated world began to feel possible."

The kitchen began to fill with jars of homemade sauerkraut, jams and the smell of homemade bread wafting through the halls became the smell of home.

That winter, Adam who’d been helping us build a compost loo decided to stay a little longer, teaching me how to play Blackbird on the guitar. We fell in love in front of an open fire, alongside the Christmas tree Betty, Stu, Adam and I had cut down in early December. It felt like a Fairytale. We celebrated Christmas at the house, with homemade gifts, tree decorations and flowers on the table.

At the start of 2025 I found myself wanting to nurture my new found bond with Adam, while simultaneously rooting into the life we’d chosen in Portugal. January was cold, dark, wet, and a bit confusing. Wanting to be in two places at once is not conducive to peace & presence. February, as the first buds were opening, I flew to Scotland to be with Adam. It felt strange leaving, when I had envisaged sowing seeds for Spring - in every sense.

Lismore, the inner Hebrides, Scotland

Of course, Scotland captured my Spirit. The expanse of mountains and wild blue waters, three weeks on a remote island in the Hebrides opened me back up to the love I felt for the UK, my homeland. I began to write poetry, feel the thrill of icy island waters, I got to see the first snowdrops and Daffodils and feed the Sheep on the croft every morning. I saw that this was where Adam felt most alive. The blue of his eyes the bluest I’d seen them.

We returned briefly to Casa Da Mae together in March, before Adam had to leave again (by now he’d spent his 90 days in Europe). I headed off on a Vision Quest at Cara Creek, 4 days of silence, solitude, fasting & prayer on a mountain. The echoes of the experience forever in my soul. Oneness, unity, presence, devotion, gratitude, love.

All I wanted to do when I returned was tell all the people in my life how much I loved them. And eat Macaroni cheese. I sat in the bath at the back of one of our barns as the sun set each evening, watching the swallows dip & dive feeling so completely at one, at Peace in the world that I thought I’d never feel suffering or pain again.

"Life teaches us that everything is impermanent; so this state of being too, did not last."

Morocco in March

Keen to share space & time with Adam once more - we journey’d to Morocco until Adam could come back to Europe in early April. We spent almost a month in my Campervan (Harmony) travelling from Northern Morocco, through the Atlas Mountains to the Sahara Desert.

Thousands of kilometres on very bumpy roads. We cherished our time together, painting, writing, reading and savouring the incredible landscapes of Morocco.

April we returned once more to Casa Da Mae. It was brief and I knew I had to leave again soon to head back to the UK to run my Wild Women’s Retreat in Dartmoor.

I began to feel a little more dis-connected from the land each time I returned, having missed the quiet unfolding of buds into flowers, the increasing hum of bees and knowing I wouldn’t get watch the Beetroot, broccoli and strawberries bloom in their delicious compost beds.

Easter spent with my family, a liberating wild women’s retreat in the heart of Dartmoor, a week on a nudist campsite and wild camping along and walking the South West Coast Path strengthened once again my love of the UK. The most magical May full of bright yellow gorse, yarrow, dandelions, wild coastal paths, sleeping on the beach, swimming in the sea, the familiar hum of English voices, my friends and families faces, love, time, energy. May ended with a writer's retreat in The Gower, West Wales. I didn’t want to leave.

I began to feel torn about what and where home was.

I know the plants in the South East, I’d begun to learn what to pick, where & when. I know the language, the weather, the people. It’s been my place for my entire life. I felt nervous about returning to Casa Da Mae. I wrote a love letter to home. I knew Adam couldn’t come with me, nor in his truth of what sets his soul on fire - did he, or does he want to.

Betty meanwhile had been steadily getting on at Casa Da Mae. Planting vegetables, creating a yoga space, nesting in. While my room gathered dust and empty jars waited to be filled with potions and balms.

In truth, earlier this month I felt completely lost. I remember a couple of years ago when I had no home, that home was wherever I was. It was a feeling of peace, balance, connection to myself and therefore with the world around me. In my confusion about home being one singular place - I had somehow lost my connection to this feeling.

I considered staying in the UK until Autumn, walking the South West Coast Path. But the more I tried to use my mind to figure it out, looking for a singular resolute answer, the more confusion and suffering I felt.

During a meditation on Shoreham beach one morning, it became clear to me what I had to do. It was time to return to Casa Da Mae. To Betty's open arms, heart and to our shared commitment to creating & nurturing our home and the land.

With all suffering and confusion, slowly, when it's ready comes the quiet click of truths, clarity.

I have realised some Universal truths during this time of lostness & confusion.

As the Solstice approaches I find myself reflecting on this concept of home, all that’s been, in its adventure, unknowing, feelings of home, of lostness, of connection. Of surrendering to all that’s been, and to all that's yet to come. So many landscapes, lessons in love, relationships, responsibilities, priorities, values. And with it all, ever-changing, ever-evolving, learning, growing.

No one place has to be home. Home is not bricks & mortar. It's not an address, and it's not fixed, and it's not permanent. Nothing in life is.

"Home can be a person, your family, memories of childhood. Home can be a familiar landscape, the arms of an Oak tree, quiet stillness in meditation."

Home can be cuddling your niece on the sofa, the smell of homemade bread, honeysuckle or roses. Home is waking up to the one you love, a candle in the darkness, a cup of tea in your favourite mug. Home is where your heart is, and the heart does not care for borders.

I've also come to realise more deeply that everything is interconnected when we choose to see it that way. It is how we are in relationship with the world around us - no matter where we are, that gives us a sense of connection. You can choose to feel disconnected, or you can see that everything is interconnected, including you as a being of this Earth. I can plant honeysuckle, pick yarrow, and listen to Cerys Matthews on a Sunday morning and feel at home wherever I am.

I take comfort and peace in the knowing that Betty is waiting for me, that the tree I sat in for hours in early Spring is ready to hold me once again in her arms, and that nothing is lost. Only gained.

But, for now, until I land in early July back to Casa Da Mae to taste summer fruits, scour markets, swim in rivers and prepare for our Autumn retreat, I find myself feeling rather at home in mid-France by a lake, stretched out under the shade of an Ash tree. With Adam & Buster by my side for the journey, for now.

There's no place like home, and no home more sacred than the one you build within. One you can take with you, wherever you go.

One you can return to again & again.

"With my heart as my compass, and with a deeper trust that all paths lead to home, onwards I travel."